


Part 8: Emmett

by oiuytrewq36



Series: We Will Survive [8]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiuytrewq36/pseuds/oiuytrewq36
Summary: I was sitting on Michael and Ben’s newly redone patio, sangria in one hand and JR’s toy motorbike in the other (if that girl doesn’t turn out a lesbian, I’ll eat my favorite workout bucket hat), when Brian leaned over and asked me if I wanted children. It wasn’t a totally strange question, considering that Mel and Lindsay were there on a visit with the kids, but I was still a little shocked to hear Brian Kinney showing an apparently genuine interest in an aspect of my life. I realized pretty quickly that the question was really about him, not me - figures - but since he’s generally a lot less of an asshole than he used to be, I’ll take it.
Relationships: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk)
Series: We Will Survive [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881736
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	Part 8: Emmett

I was sitting on Michael and Ben’s newly redone patio, sangria in one hand and JR’s toy motorbike in the other (if that girl doesn’t turn out a lesbian, I’ll eat my favorite workout bucket hat), when Brian leaned over and asked me if I wanted children. It wasn’t a totally strange question, considering that Mel and Lindsay were there on a visit with the kids, but I was still a little shocked to hear Brian Kinney showing an apparently genuine interest in an aspect of my life. I realized pretty quickly that the question was really about him, not me - figures - but since he’s generally a lot less of an asshole than he used to be, I’ll take it.

I looked over to where Michael was bouncing JR on his lap.

“Maybe someday. I think I’d want to have a partner, though.”

Brian was gazing at Gus, who was in the yard trying to juggle oranges while balancing on one leg. “I had no idea what I was getting into when I said I’d father a kid for Linds. I thought I’d jerk off and that’d be it for my contribution, so to speak, and she and Mel would handle the rest.”

“But that’s not what happened,” I said.

“He looks like me, he even talks a little like me,” Brian said. “I may not be his legal parent, but every time I look at him I think ‘holy shit, that’s my kid.’” Two exchanges in, and it was the longest sarcasm-free conversation I’d ever had with him.

“What’s that like?”

“Sometimes it’s good. But sometimes it’s too much. I love him, I do, and I like playing with him, talking to him, having him run up and hug me and all that shit, but then I feel this responsibility, like I need to protect him and take care of him and, you know, be his father, but you know me - I probably couldn’t keep a dandelion alive without help.”

I waited.

“I don’t want kids,” he said after a long pause. “I’m glad that Gus is here - look at him, he’s amazing.” At the moment, Gus had just dropped all the oranges for the zillionth time and was picking them up, so I guess Brian really does love him. “But I don’t want to raise children. That’s not who I am.”

I was starting to get a pretty good idea of where this was going.

“Does Justin want kids?”

“I don’t know,” he said, not looking at me, and I knew I was right. “I haven’t asked him.”

“You should,” I said.

He sighed. “Yeah, I should, but I haven’t, because- because I’m fucking terrified that he does, and the last time he decided that we wanted different things, he left before even having a real conversation about it with me because he already knew exactly what I’d tell him.”

I was a little astonished that he’d even tell me that much, but I tried not to let it show. Playing amateur relationship therapist was always my specialty, and I had to hold myself back from calling him “honey” and making him some cookies right that second.

“Brian,” I said. “I have literally never met two people more in love than you and Justin. You’ve both been through a lot, but you made it out the other side, despite everything. He knows you better than anyone else does.”

Brian still wasn’t looking at me, but I was on a roll.

“He loves you for who you are, and you do the same for him. That’s why you work. But if you keep something this big from him, there’s no way in hell you won’t regret it in the long run.”

Brian didn’t say anything for a while. Then he laughed a little - his real laugh, not the terrifying one he uses on homophobes and tricks who make the first move. “Honeycutt, do you have any idea how much trouble you could have saved me over the past eight years?”

I grinned at him. “If you’d been able to think past your dick for more than five seconds, you might have realized that the best love-life advice in Pittsburgh was right under your nose.”

He clinked his glass against mine. “Jesus. I guess I really do have a love life now.”

I took a long swig of my sangria. “You bet, honey.”

***

Later that night, I realized that it’d been far too long since I’d had some good sex, so I went to scope out the scene at Woody’s. I ordered a Cosmo, of course, and flirted with the cute new bartender for a while before he asked me if I wanted the drink on my tab.

“Put it on mine,” Brian said. He sort of flowed into the seat next to me, grinning. “How’s it going?”

I blinked. “Uh … fine? How’s it going with you?”

“Justin says thank you for calling me on my bullshit,” he said.

I smiled. “You talked? How’d it go?”

“He already knew exactly how I was feeling, because he’s smarter than I’ll ever be when emotions are concerned.”

“And?”

“He said he loves the family we have and that when he came back to me he knew exactly what he was signing up for.”

He was smiling more genuinely than I’d ever seen, so I decided it was safe to go in for a hug.

“That’s amazing, baby. I’m so happy for both of you.”

Brian, who I was by now thinking was probably at least a teensy bit celebratorily stoned, ordered a double scotch and leaned back against the bar. “Then we had the most _unbelievable_ phone sex. Justin gets off on communication.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you two ever _not_ have unbelievable sex?”

He grinned wider. “Nope. I think it’s clinically impossible.” He tossed back his drink and looked around the bar. “Now, why don’t we see about getting _you_ laid?”

***

The next week, I brought some homemade zucchini bread over to the loft. Brian greeted me with a friendly “what the fuck is that?”, which I was fully prepared for. I had to explain the high fiber content and a dozen other nutritional factoids I’d memorized while he stared warily at the loaf, but he let it in the door, so I count that as a win.


End file.
